Happy to Be Here With You
by thepoopfairy
Summary: Couldn't think of a good title lol. God Bless America fic. Just a oneshot.


**Okay, to be honest I disliked this movie. I hated all of the characters, including Frank and Roxy themselves. But, there's only one other story on this movie, so I thought it needed more. And yes, Frank is supposed to be a creepy fuck. So here you go. **

Frank viewed himself to be smart. He examined the world with cynicism and disgust, something he had been accomplishing for most of his adult life. He wondered why, _how_ exactly, could these people go about their daily lives with such distasteful, frivolous and downright scary behavior? Why couldn't everyone have been more like him? Maybe he should become president, just to show people the proper way to act.

He contemplated as he sat in his chair, watching a reality show on the television.

"Revolting," he muttered, glaring at the screen with contempt. The beefed-up 20 year old on the show was vomiting the beer he just chugged as his peers produced high-pitched, irritating wails of laughter. Of course, it was in French, granted they were in Montreal, the closest to France they could get to right now. They had been in Quebec for almost three months, and Frank had learned some of the language he hadn't taken since high school.

Anyway, idiots, serial killers, rapists: Frank would never reduce himself to such vile filth. Well, he _had_ murdered people, but they had deserved it. All of the crimes he committed on bad, despicable people were in good taste. But Frank wasn't an evil person. He was a nice guy, in fact, he was nicer than most men. Admittedly he was a killer, but it didn't matter as long as he was _nice_. And those murders were doing America a favor.

He changed the channel again, this time to the news. A woman was speaking about a teenager who had been kidnapped for four months. She had escaped from her captor, who committed unspeakable acts of torture onto the girl.

He scoffed. People were just terrible. And his teenaged companion seemed to have agreed with him, or else she wouldn't have come along in the first place. Yet the news painted him as a monster, not just as a serial killer but as a deplorable pedophile. Another reason why the media could never be trusted. She wasn't being held against her will, and he wasn't a child molester. He had to repeat that statement to himself every time another news source implied this.

He used to be married, for God's sake, to a _grown woman_. And he had had _consensual_ relations with her. And he had a kid, too! He would never dream of hurting his daughter. And he would never dare lay a finger on Roxy either. And she had been the one who had convinced him to take her along, not the other way around. If only his accusers had gotten that right.

He desperately wanted nothing more in the world than to think of her as his daughter, or at least most of himself wanted to. Sometimes while he was lying in bed, or when he was inside on a cold day sipping coffee, or if he was sitting on a bench in the park outside during a warm, sunny day, he would envision her sleeping next to him, or sitting across from him and reaching over to take a sip of his coffee, or lying her head down on his lap while they were at the park...

No, no. He inwardly scolded himself. The girl wasn't even eighteen yet. She was still considered a child. Why was he trying to convince himself that these thoughts were okay?

The source of his mental arguments then snapped him out of his thoughts. "Hey." She handed him a list, full of different types of things you would typically find at a grocery store. "Here's what I want."

He took the paper from her and scanned it before looking up at her. He noticed that her eyes were red. "Are you okay?"

She seemed a bit surprised of his awareness. She then wiped her eyes. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, it looks like you've been crying."

She scoffed. "No." She faked irritation. "What are you talking about?"

In his mind he was feeling a bit nervous. Was she regretting coming with him? Going on their killing spree and fleeing to Canada? Still, his outward demeanor was calm. He sighed as if he were her knowing parent. "Come on, Roxy. You can't hide your feelings from me, not if we're gonna live together."

He saw her freeze for a brief moment at the comment. The only evidence of his anxiety was him squeezing the remote a little harder than he should. He hadn't wanted to make his next suggestion, but he couldn't not force himself to. "Roxy, maybe you should go back home. And forget about all of this."

Her eyes glanced downward for a split second before making eye contact again. "No." She was desperately trying to hide whatever emotions were creeping up on her, she wasn't one to cry. "I don't want to."

"Listen, Roxy. I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do." Frank mentally patted himself on the back once he stated this. Any other man would have forced her or manipulated her into staying, but Frank wouldn't dare do such a thing.

"Frank, I want to do this, but..." she paused for several moments.

He spoke, cutting into the silence: "What are your hesitations?"

She frowned, clenching and unclenching her fists. She then shook her head. "I don't know."

Frank leaned closer to her, staring into her eyes, and with amazing sincerity, quietly told her, "Roxy, you can get in the car and I can take you to the police station right now and turn myself in, which is absolutely fine with me. You can go back to your family and live a normal life. I won't even hesitate. Or, you could stay here with me, and I'll do everything that you want to do, but with exceptions of course. No listening to the Cure around me, they're terrible."

She smirked, smacking him on the arm. She had relaxed. "What? The Cure's like one of the best bands ever."

He was relieved to have convinced her, albeit he was still feeling a bit guilty. Still, he had given her choices, and she could only decide for herself if she wanted to stay or leave. "Why don't you come with me to the supermarket?"

"No. Not after last night. You were spying on me."

His expression then morphed into incredulousness. "What? I would never do such a thing. I told you a millions times that I don't like kids like that."

"Uh huh," Roxy responded. "Of course you have to convince yourself that. Over and over again." She crossed her arms. "Perv."

He attempted to keep his expression neutral as he stared at her. "Roxy..."

She suddenly leaned closer to him. He was still, unsure of what he should do. Her mouth was so close to his that he tasted her breath. And then she backed away.

"Lemme get ready."

Frank watched her walk away, she had left him in a state of utter disbelief. As his mind could only fixate itself onto her even more, he then came to the realization that there were only two months left until her eighteenth birthday. He would have to wait.


End file.
